


Henrietta Summer

by Hillevi



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-18
Updated: 2015-08-02
Packaged: 2018-04-09 22:22:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4366406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hillevi/pseuds/Hillevi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of drabbles taking place during the summer. Featuring Bluesey, with background Pynch. Rating subject to change if a future installment gets too racy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Of Testicles and Broken Air Conditioners

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first published work in several years, so feedback is loved but please be gentle. I'd also love to hear ideas for future installments!

 

***

 

“Jesus, it’s fucking hot.”

Gansey looked up. These were words he would have expected to hear from his surly roommate, not from the petite girl who had dropped down onto the edge of his bed moments before. He felt vaguely uncomfortable at hearing her swear in a way reminiscent of his best friend.

“Strongly put,” was all he gave as reply. She rolled her eyes at him and flipped a hand up, palm out in a dismissive gesture. A grin stole across her face.

“It’s hot as balls,” she drawled, drawing out the last word and lending it as much Henrietta as she could. The statement was a challenge. She had sensed his discomfort, and was now ribbing him with the same subtlety that Ronan often did. Gansey briefly wondered if the two had been spending some time together outside of what the group’s exploits usually forced. He shook off the notion but decided that two could play at this game.

“Actually, the testes are colder than the rest of the human body; the slightly lower temperature is more conducive to sperm production.” This literal rebuttal was delivered professorially, in a tone that he knew she found infuriating.

Instead of rising to the bait, she placed a hand on his thigh, higher than he would have felt comfortable with even on a cooler day. She then leaned closer to his ear and whispered,

 

“Wow, you sure do know a lot about balls. Something you’re not telling me?”

 

Gansey rose quickly, put off his stride by this intrusion into his personal space. He replied with half-hearted sarcasm. “Oh no, you caught me.” Then, thinking of an earlier conversion he’d had with Ronan, he added in jest, “I’ve actually got three.”

There was silence for a moment while Blue swallowed the absurdity of this statement. Then, abruptly, she began laughing. It wasn’t a subdued quiet laugh, or the kind of uncomfortable chuckle he had heard her force out around Adam many times before, but a full laugh that almost knocked her sideways on the bed. Before Gansey could marvel at the expression on her face, the laugh stopped. She looked at him with a forced straight face, bottom lip pinched on either side by her teeth as she bit back a smile.

“I knew it,” was all she said, a flutter of mirth still audible in her voice.

Gansey’s solemn mask dropped and he smiled. The tension in the room dissipated and he settled back down next to her on the bed, propping himself up on the arm closest to her. Before he could get fully comfortable again, Blue’s hand was back on his thigh where it had been resting a moment before. She leaned in again and he found himself wishing that he hadn’t decided tie up his arm in the act of sitting, as he felt urgent need to protect himself as her hand slid upwards a few inches.

“Not gonna make a claim like that without backing it up are you?” she breathed into his ear. Breathing deeply, he bit back the urge to gulp, knowing it would be highly visible from her vantage point a few inches from his neck. She leaned in closer until her forehead was resting just under his left ear, her breath warm on his collarbone in a way that wasn’t unpleasant, despite the heat. He focused on taking slow, even breaths. Her hair tickled his neck. Her hand remained motionless on his leg, though he remained acutely aware of its presence and the heat radiating from it. What felt like an eternity later, Blue pulled back, tucking a piece of hair absentmindedly behind her ear. She looked almost solemn, but her eyes seemed focused on a space several feet beyond him. Then, almost before he had time to notice, she was back grinning at him. She pushed herself back up by the hand on his leg and stood. Her next words surprised him.

 

“Speaking of nuts, I could really go for some ice cream right now.” She strode through the door, leaving Gansey sitting dazedly on the bed, his hand resting where the heat from her palm lingered.

 

 


	2. Of Frayed Vests and Pride

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A more serious piece. Written because re-reading book one made me miss Adam and Blue as a pair just a little bit, though this is meant more as friendship than romance.

***

 

Blue knew that Adam would be mad.

She knew this before she even set off from 300 Fox Way on her bike, sewing kit and several spools of black and grey thread tucked inside her backpack. She braced herself as she knocked on his door, backpack tucked under one arm.

There was a shuffling noise on the other side, then the door creaked open a few inches. A sliver of Adam’s face peered through the opening for a moment before he pulled the door back to admit her. She stepping inside, taking care not to look around too much. Blue had once read that observation of a person’s living space could be a better indicator of their personality than any description they themselves could provide.

Blue hoped that the sparseness of this room was more of a reflection of Adam’s finances than his life. She couldn’t help but worry that it was both.

Adam himself was standing a few feet away, hands in his pockets. His face looked tired. The tan he had acquired from working outdoors could only partially hide the dark circles under his eyes, and his dusty hair, bleached by the same sun, looked like it hadn’t seen a pair of scissors in just a bit too long.

Adam looked at Blue expectantly but didn’t prompt her. She unzipped her backpack and pulled out its contents.

“I just wanted to…” she started, then reconsidered her words.

“Look, I know the other guys are all getting new uniforms for next year, and I figured…” She stopped again. “Please don’t take this wrong, but I know you don’t have money for that kind of thing, and I know you don’t have anyone to fix your old one up. So I want to volunteer my services. I alter all my own clothes, you know.”

She saw his eyebrows knit together and quickly added.

“Sorry, it’s just that I know what it’s like not to have the same nice clothes as everyone else. It’s all well and good for me to dress like a freak, but you have to wear that dumb uniform.”

His face didn’t lighten and she scrambled on.

“Not that the uniform looks dumb on you or anything. Sorry, I just always thought that whole school was kind of a joke. Not that I think you are or anything. It’s just...you know.  
Right?” she implored, scanning his face for a change.

His expression didn’t change, but he opened his mouth to respond.

“I wish you weren’t so afraid of me.”

Blue exhaled sharply. “Sorry,” she began. Something about Adam just made her want to apologize for everything. Unlike others, she knew that he didn’t take it as a sign of weakness or submission. “I guess I just worry that the habit of saying the wrong thing is rubbing off on me.”

Adam didn’t respond to this comment, but instead looked off to the side for a moment before replying.

“I guess the vest could use a little work.” He walked over to a plastic bin and, after rummaging around inside for a minute, pulled out a grey vest with the Aglionby crest on it. He handed it to Blue, who took it and sat down on the mattress to start working. Adam picked up a book and paged through it while she worked in silence.

 

Several minutes later, Adam lowered his book. Blue was finishing up a fraying edge when she felt his eyes on her.

“You know, I wasn’t so sure about letting you touch my uniform. Especially when you admitted to ripping all of your own clothes up.”

It took Blue a moment to realize that he had just made a joke. She smiled, but her eyes glinted.

“Was that a dig at my fashion sense? I’ll have you know all my friends at public school think I’m very stylish.”

“You have friends at school?” he asked. Blue drew her head back and looked at him, offended.

“What?”

He finally cracked a smile. “I just can’t believe you have other friends but you choose to hang out with us.” He paused for a moment, then added. “Me.”

Blue shrugged, then turned her eyes back to her work.

“What can I say? Most other people just can’t keep up with me.”

“I think I’m starting to see what that’s like,” he responded quietly. She knew that he was referring to the deal he had struck with Cabeswater. She didn’t know exactly how that was affecting him, but she could only assume it was a little bit like the psychic powers that her relatives possessed. He could see and feel things while knowing that no one else did. No wonder Maura had grouped together with other psychics. Blue could only imagine how lonely it was in a world like that with no one to share the experience.

“You know we all just want to help you.” She let the statement hang in the air, open to interpretation. When he didn’t respond, she added. “I include my family in that. They could probably be a lot more helpful with the whole Cabeswater thing than...well, anyone else in this town.” She cut a piece of thread that was hanging off the vest. “And they’re all better listeners than Gansey. Except maybe Calla.”

Adam’s mouth twitched. “Even Orla?” he asked.

Blue pursed her lips in a way that he had once found irresistible. Maybe he still did. He couldn’t tell anymore.

“Well maybe not Orla, either.”

She folded the vest carefully and handed it back to him. “I should probably go. I’m sure my mom knows I’m here and the longer I stay, the longer the lecture will be when I get home.” She stood and brushed imaginary dust off of the long skirt she wore. Adam looked up at her, and she was content to see the most gratified expression on his face she’d seen in weeks.

“I didn’t realize I was worthy of a lecture.”

Blue laughed. “Of course you are.”

She hesitated a moment, then leaned down and kissed his hair, her hand cupped over his damaged ear.

They both knew what this kiss meant, but both tried not to think about it as she left, shutting the door quietly behind her.


	3. Of Thunderstorms, France, and Lost Contacts

***

 

The doors of Monmouth Manufacturing stood open, as though neither of its occupants could stand the thought of being in a closed room together -- even one larger than a house. The building was silent but for the occasional sound of pages turning and staccato splashes of rain against the old windows. In time, these splashes faded to silence, and the sound of pages stopped abruptly as Blue Sargent dropped the heavy tome she had been skimming onto the bed.

“I’m going to fall asleep if we keep this up.”

Gansey looked up from his own book in mild surprise. He had been thoroughly engaged in a review of a primary source -- a contemporary of Glendower’s who had penned extensive opinions on the state of the nation of Wales as it stood in the midst of political turmoil. This book was old and yellowed, as though he had found it second- or third- or seventh-hand and brought it back across the Atlantic to be referenced in the course of research seemingly irrelevant to the surrounding area. Which, of course, was exactly what he had done. And dog-eared tens of pages to boot.

“Is there something else you want to do?”

Ronan and Adam had wandered off again to who-knew-where. Gansey, seeing them disappearing together with increasing frequency, had begun to keep his mouth shut. At least Adam would keep Ronan out of trouble with drugs or whatever else he was inclined to try these days. But with Ronan out of the building, Gansey assumed they stood a better chance at making a dent in the long list of books he had queued up for review. Though he had to admit that his current choice was more for pleasure than work.

Blue turned over on the mattress to sit up and face him. “Let’s go for a walk. It’s stopped raining.”

Gansey looked through one of the recently-replaced windows at the sky. “I wouldn’t count on it stopping for long,” he replied. Storms like this didn’t tend to wear themselves out too quickly.

But Blue was already off the bed and zipping up her boots. “You’re waterproof,” she said. The disdain in her voice was clearly meant to goad him into going along with her plan. “Just make sure you wear contacts. Not that I don’t love those glasses.”

He took this as sarcasm, though it wasn’t meant to be.

 

Minutes later, they were walking down Monmouth Avenue, a street filled with old, mostly forgotten buildings. Both of them automatically turned toward town upon reaching the corner, and continued to walk in companionable silence. Thunder rumbled miles away, leading Gansey to check his watch like he was timing the distance of the storm, though no lightning lit the area.

Blue broke the silence first, as she often did.

“Do you ever wonder if there are other people around the world looking for the same kind of things that we are?”

“Well, there seem to be other people looking for Glendower, if that’s what you mean.”

Blue shook her head. “No, I meant less specifically. I know there are co-- ley lines all across the world. We can’t have the only one on earth with a place like Cabeswater, can we? What if, on the other side of the world, there’s a group of kids poking around a ley line in China, or something, looking for buried treasure?”

“It’s an interesting thought,” Gansey allowed, “but I’ve been around the world and I haven’t found anything nearly as interesting as buried royalty an ocean away from their homeland.”

Blue’s face clouded slightly and she responded with the barest hint of bitterness. “Right, I forgot you’ve been everywhere.”

Gansey, sensing he had said the wrong thing, backtracked. “It is an intriguing idea that we could be a part of some global treasure-hunt and not even know it, though. Many places aboveground along ley lines are treasures in their own right. There’s a church at Mont St. Michel that is believed to be on a French ley line connecting to the point where St. Michel himself was said to have fought Lucifer. In many cases, the treasures of the line are overt. In fact, that’s how some lines are discovered; they pass through major historical landmarks. Ours may be unique in that it holds something beneath the surface.”

“I’d like to go to France someday.” Blue sighed. “After South America, of course.”

“ _Un jour, je t’emmènerai en France, mon trésor_.”

Blue looked up at him and wrinkled her nose. “What did you just say?”

Gansey shrugged and tilted his head slightly away, hiding the better part of his face. “Just that it’s a lovely country, full of treasure.”

“I bet. Although I hear the people are awful.”

Gansey smiled. “Not necessarily. There are awful people everywhere, and there are good people everywhere. Trust me, my family lives right at the center of the American government, and those are some of the worst people imaginable. Yet look at me.”

“I don’t know, maybe that’s a bad example,” Blue joked.

“Ouch, Jane, you’re going to make me cry,” Gansey responded sarcastically, then suddenly swore and rubbed at his right eye. “Shit, I think one of my contacts fell out.”

Blue poked her head in front of him then laughed. “Now it looks like you’re really crying!” she exclaimed. Gansey scowled in response and she grabbed one of his shoulders and pulled him down into a half-hug, patting to top of his head in a mocking maternal gesture.

“There, there, sweetie, don’t cry. I’m here.”

Gansey straightened, lifting her up with him a few inches until she released his shoulder and dropped back onto the pavement, scattering a shallow puddle. She leaned against him casually and he couldn’t help notice the deliberate placement of her hand on his abdomen. With even greater deliberation, he pretended to ignore it while he glanced at the ground with one hand covering his now-blind eye.

“I don’t think we’re going to find it out here,” he noted. “Good thing I have spares.”

With a bang, the sky opened above them, drenching them and rendering any attempt to locate the fallen contact lens futile. Blue shook her head and water droplets flew everywhere from the uneven strands of hair. “Guess I was wrong about the rain,” was all she said.

Gansey put his hand down and grimaced before reaching up to remove his other contact lens. Finding nowhere to keep it, he dropped it on the ground in frustration. His thumb jumped to his lower lip as he looked around at the blurry forms of the buildings around them.

Blue looked up at his eyes. One was still lined with a faint pink where he had rubbed at it, and she had the sudden urge to reach up and touch his cheek underneath. Instead, she pulled away and took his hand, stepping back the way they had come.

“Well then come on, I’ll lead you back home,” she said. “I promise not to lead you through too many big puddles. Although I can’t help it if there are a few wide ones that are unavoidable. The sidewalks out here are pretty crappy.”

With that, she began pulling him along. Gansey was tempted to make a joke about her resemblance to a seeing-eye dog, but thought better of it. There were probably some impressive puddles she could lead him through if provoked.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone wants to correct my French, I'd be okay with that. I'm more than a little rusty.


	4. Of Wing-men and the Lake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lighter chapter. Written in present tense because I felt like it.

***

 

“Ronan Lynch, put me down or so help me --”

“Or what, maggot?”

Ronan carries Blue, carelessly thrown over his bony shoulder like a ragdoll or a sack of flour. She is banging her fists half-heartedly against his spine in a way that resembles a petulant child. This isn’t the thought that occupies the minds of the two followers, however. What catches the eyes of the boys behind her are the inches of skin visible above the rising hem of her ripped tank top. Inches that she hasn’t exposed even on the hottest days of the Henrietta summer.

Gansey and Adam exchange a look. They have reached an uneasy peace -- the former flame and his new, shinier replacement. Adam had assumed that Blue’s rejection of him and her clear gravitation toward Gansey would sting for longer than it had, but once the initial pain of the rejection had faded, he found that he had already known that Blue was drifting away from him. He takes solace in the glances he now catches from Ronan -- at least Blue’s dismissal didn’t mean that he wasn’t worth wanting. It doesn’t hurt that this wanting is by someone as sharply good-looking as Ronan Lynch. Adam kicks a rock to the side of the trail and watches as Ronan’s eyes flick in his direction.

In contrast, Gansey at this moment is following the line of Blue’s stomach up until it dead-ends at the hem of her shirt, still a few inches shy of what he was hoping to see. His thoughts are split between this visible space and their destination: another lake along the ley line. This time, rather than bringing along thousands of dollars of technology, Blue has insisted that they all dress to explore the lake the old-fashioned way. And so here they are, trudging down a path too narrow for the Pig, all wearing swim trunks or, in Blue’s case, a tank top and knee-length cargo shorts that had once been pants.

Ronan is having an inside joke that he’s the only one in the group who couldn’t give less of a fuck that Blue’s hips are currently centimeters from his face. His expression, as usual, betrays none of what he’s thinking. He knows that Gansey is staring; long ago the knowledge that Gansey was admiring someone else would have caused him pain. Now, knowing that Gansey is closer to being a brother to him than Declan ever would be, Ronan doesn’t mind helping him out occasionally when it comes to the opposite sex. And God only knew, Gansey really needed it sometimes. Looks like Apollo with the sensibility of a five-year-old kid with a GameBoy. Gansey may have dated more, but that could be attributed to the dearth of potential romantic partners for a man of Ronan’s persuasion in this conservative shit-hole. Injustice aside, Ronan now takes it upon himself to give Gansey what he can while simultaneously pissing off the hobbit in consignment store clothing. Though he could really do without her bony fists repeatedly thumping his spine.

“Hey, asshole, watch where you’re going!” This latest cry of indignation comes as the path narrows and branches close in around them, bending around Ronan and whipping back to smack Blue in the face. She puts off beating on Ronan to protect her face from the claws of the foliage around them.

“Come on, Ronan,” Gansey pipes up from behind them.

A grin spreads across Ronan’s face, but he doesn’t turn around or break stride. “What? Do you want a turn?”

There is silence as Gansey’s mouth twists and he shakes his head, unable to come up with a response as his cheeks color almost imperceptibly.

“You could always put me down and let me walk,” Blue offers.

Ronan scoffs. “Your short legs were slowing us down.”

He extends a hand and plucks a loose twig.

“Besides,” he adds as he swipes a particularly thorny branch out of the way of the two of them, leaving it to smack into the pair of boys behind them, “a gentleman never makes a lady deal with the perils of a journey when he can shield her from the elements.”

Gansey’s eyes narrow at this perversion of chivalry and clear reference to the last body of water they had explored, where the Gansey had let Blue and Orla dive down to the bottom to find the objects projected on his laptop while he considered the effects the water would have on his apparel.

Without warning, the path ahead of the opens into an empty plain filled with waist-high grass. They hear the sounds of water lapping, and a flash of lake is visible through the swaying grass far ahead. Ronan shifts Blue on his shoulder. “Should I put you down or will you not be able to see through this?” he asks.

“I’m not going to dignify that with a response,” comes the muffled reply from his back. He shifts again and sets her down, more gently than she had been expecting. Seizing the moment, she reaches up with one hand and pats his cheek. “Thank you, my noble steed.”

Ronan’s expression darkens slightly as Adam and Gansey try to stifle a laugh with differing degrees of success. Noah materializes from the grass around them. He looks bemused.

“You deserved that,” he states.

“Fuck off.”

 

The five tramp across the field in near synchrony until Blue, pressing just ahead to remind them of her self-sufficiency, nearly falls into the lake which seems to materialize much as Noah had done. Luckily, Adam has the reflexes to grab the back of her shirt and pull her backwards onto dry land

Before them spans a lake that had certainly not been there a moment before. When they had set off, they had been expecting a pond like the last time, but this lake covers several times the amount of space. Its sudden appearance points toward it being their goal, however, and the four of them, minus Noah, silently prepare for the dive ahead. Blue kicks off a pair of sun-faded rubber flip-flops while Ronan and Adam push their shoes off by the heels and pull shirts off over their head. Ronan performs this action like an actor in a cheap porn and winks at Adam, who quirks his mouth in a way that seems almost pleased. Blue pretends not to notice while Gansey, staring at the lake, genuinely doesn’t see. The other three, plus Noah, (standing semi-opaquely in the background,) turn to look at their unelected leader. Blue is the first to speak.

“Planning on going in there in that shirt? I don’t think lake water was what they had in mind when they said ‘hand-wash cold’.”

Gansey’s head snaps back and his eyes refocus on her face. A second later, his brain catches up and he replies with a distinct lack of irony “you’re probably right.” Still he hesitates a moment, looking at the two shirtless boys on either side of Blue, before pulling off his own and folding it before laying it a few feet into the grass, away from the edge of the water. He kicks off his shoes -- Chuck Taylors, not those boat shoes that Blue hates so much -- and steps into the water. It’s cold, and he almost jerks his foot back, but for the eyes watching him expectantly. Then, before he can work up the courage, a green and brown blur streaks by him and lands with a disproportionately large splash in the water several feet in front of him. Sensing his hesitation, Blue has launched herself into the water and is now stumbling, arms windmilling, where the water is shallower than she anticipated. She stumbles forward and crashes face-first into the waist-deep water, arms stretched above her head in a mock dive as her face hits the once peaceful surface of the lake. A few seconds later, she pulls herself up, coughing up water in a choked laugh.

Adam wades into the water and shudders as the cold water reaches the bottom of his fraying swim trunks and immediately soaks them to the top. With a shrug at Gansey, Ronan follows. Gansey is left standing half on the shore with Noah, who is standing with his arms crossed over his chest and a knowing expression on his face. Blue has paddled further out and treads water while Ronan and Adam shuffle around in the shallow water. Gansey worries his lower lip for a moment and stares out at them, then pulls his glasses off (not risking contacts in the water today), folds them on top of his shirt, and steps into the water. He heads for Blue before stopping shoulder-deep in the water. Blue pushes over to him and tries the bottom before finding it too deep and deciding to tread water. He stares for a moment at the blur of her arms scooping at the surface of the water before, in a moment of impulsivity, taking one of her hands and stooping to haul her onto his back, out of the water. He briefly wonders if this new-found bravery is the result of his inability to see more than the blurry outline of any of his companions.

In a moment, Blue’s hands are resting in his wet hair. Something inside him stirs at the feeling of her legs -- even covered in cargo pants -- on his shoulders, and he silently thanks the water for its faint cloudiness. He loops his arms around Blue’s lower legs while she leans down over him to keep her balance. Behind him there is a great splash and a yell as Ronan grabs Adam by the ankles and hoists the comparably-sized boy onto his shoulders. Adam struggles for a moment to pull himself up as Ronan rights himself in the water.

“You asshole, I almost drowned,” Adam grumbles, accent growing prominent as he spits lake water.

Ronan slowly wades out until he is standing a few feet from Gansey. Adam, who is sitting a few inches higher, now towers above Blue in a way that seems comical.

“I thought we were playing Chicken,” Ronan deadpans.

 


	5. Of Shady Spots, Crows, and Jealousy

 

***

Blue thinks that Henrietta must be one of the most beautiful places in the world in summer. Yes, it’s hot and the humidity puts a dent in her fashion sense, which usually relies heavily on layering. But the sacrifice is worth it for the pleasure of sitting in the backyard with a mug of ice water and feeling the shifting shade of the leaves moving in the breeze. She can hear the neighbors’ kids screaming down the street as they jump on a makeshift trampoline made from PVC pipes and a rubber sheet. People in this neighborhood may not have been rich, but they found ways to get the things they needed. Blue reflects with pride that while she may not have a world-class education from an expensive school, she has the ingenuity of generations of underfunded people. That and the strange inventiveness of a house full of free-spirited women.

Her thoughts are interrupted by a door opening, and moments later, none other than Richard Campbell Gansey III steps out into the yard, hand behind his neck in a gesture of unease. She’s surprised to see him, yes, but more surprised to see him alone. Navigating 300 Fox Way as an outsider is no mean feat. He catches her surprise and offers an explanation.

“Adam’s got work and Ronan was shut up in his room with Chainsaw. I didn’t think I should disturb him.”

Blue nods. He hasn’t offered an explanation for why he’s come at all, but she can sense even with her stunted powers of perception that he won’t have a good answer to that question. So she lets it go and agrees with his pronouncement. “Probably a wise decision. There’s something weird about that bird.”

Gansey chuckles and takes a seat beside her, though his legs are too long to sit at the easy angle that Blue perches at. “Besides having been pulled out of a dream?”

Blue grins. “Actually that might just be it.” The raven showed a certain sentience that had never been seen in anything avian before. Her connection with Ronan was comparable to most dogs and their owners, and the frequency with which she obeyed his orders was probably improvement on most dogs.

Blue dumps her mug of now-melted ice water at the base of the tree before patting its trunk. Above them, a pair of crows caws to each other as they circled the tree. Blue looks up at them.

“Did you know that crows are smarter than ravens?” She hears Gansey snort so she continues. “It’s true. The smaller ones are always smarter. Gotta do something to make up for the inequality in size.”

“I think you’re being facetious,” he responds.

She feigns offense. “You think I’m kidding? Look it up.”

“So does that mean you’re not up to any arm wrestling contests any time soon?” he counters.

Blue smirks. “Any time, Dick.” She watches with satisfaction as he grimaces at her use of his given name. It’s a sore spot that she chooses to prod only when he hits one of her own. She knows it’s a low tactic, but so are size jokes.

Overhead, one of the crows lands and knocks a twig off the tree. It falls between the branches and, in some kind of mediocre miracle, lands in Gansey’s hair. Blue hides a smile and says sagely “You see? They know that you were disrespecting them.”

“Or it just landed on a twig that was too small.”

“Don’t disrespect him again or he’ll drop an entire branch on your head,” she warns. “I don’t feel like cleaning up the mess if he does that.”

Gansey pauses. “That...was morbid.”

She shrugs. “Yeah, sorry, it kind of got away from me.”

Pulling the twig out of his hair, Gansey holds it between his fingers and examines it. It’s only a few inches long with the remains of a single leaf on it. One end is clearly snapped where it had been attached to the tree only moments before. He can’t help but wonder if this represents something in his life right now. Does the clairvoyance of this house somehow extend to the birds outside?

He must be pondering for too long, because Blue starts shifting uncomfortably beside him. He hears her draw in a breath in preparation for something and tenses unconsciously.

 

“I kissed Adam,” she blurts out. She feels Gansey’s gaze shift to her, but she doesn’t turn to meet it. The conversation has turned quickly and he is reeling, while she represses the urge to run and hide in the house. She wonders if this is how he felt when he left her alone in the car and fled into the open air. The silence has now taken on weight as she awaits his response.

When he does respond, he sounds breathless. “You did? And he’s still…”

“Alive?” she finishes. “Well, obviously. You’ve seen him since. He’s a lot more corporeal than Noah.”

Gansey considers about commenting on her choice of words but files the remark away under bad ideas. He’s slowly getting better at knowing when his observations aren’t appropriate.

“Where…” he starts, but trails off before finishing the question.

Blue misinterprets him. “It was in his room, I had stopped by to -- well, to help out with something and we got to talking --” Her words spill out like the water from her mug, though they land with much less grace.

He cuts her off. “No, I meant where did you kiss him? On the cheek? Lips?” His voice cracks.

Blue shakes her head. “It was just on the top of the head as I was leaving. But that isn’t important, Gansey. I think the two of us really get it now. It was nice while it lasted.” She shrugs and smiles ruefully. “I guess it was just nice to feel wanted.”

Beside her, Gansey sighs and looks away. “Oh, Jane…”

The two sit in silence while their thoughts wander in parallel directions.

 

Gansey is fighting a wave of jealousy that threatens to overcome him against his better judgment. Rationally, he knows that this kiss signifies the true end of Blue and Adam as a couple in a way that words never could. If Blue could kiss him, even on the top of the head -- which, in itself, was clearly a platonic gesture -- then he couldn’t possibly be her true love. Gansey is relieved by this, but also saddened for Adam, who probably needs the love more than anyone Gansey knows. Still the jealousy lingers.

Blue has already pondered the implications of the kiss. She knew before giving it that Adam could not be her true love -- both from the impossible coincidence of the prophecy coupled with Gansey’s presence on the corpse road on St. Mark’s Eve, and from reflection on her own feelings, which grew clearer the more time she spent around the boys. Adam wasn’t the one she was falling for.

During this contemplation, Blue is aware on the periphery of Gansey running his thumb repeatedly over his lower lip, a gesture that she normally finds endearing that takes on a new light after the previous exchange. She wonders if he knows what he’s doing. She has a momentary impulse to run her own thumb over his lip, just to feel, but instead she picks at a root that has crept up from the soil beside her.  

The silence lasts several minutes before Gansey seems to recall that Blue herself is sitting next to him. Not the Blue of his thoughts but flesh and blood and, well, corporeal. She is still picking at a tree root in seeming boredom. Instinctually, he wraps an arm around her shoulder and pulls her against him, resting his head on top of hers.

Normally, Blue hates people resting any part of themselves on her head, as it is usually a jab at her diminutive size. This time, she finds it comfortable. Comforting. Even if Gansey has already used up his short joke for the day. Month. Year.

“Don’t ever think that you’re not wanted,” he breathes. He feels Blue exhale against him.

 

They sit quietly until a window opens upstairs and a voice calls out “Get a room, you two!” Faint laughter follows as the window slams shut again and Blue and Gansey pull apart.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are ostensibly chronological.


End file.
